Under Pressure

“Dammit!” Big Mac had become beyond restless. The previous feelings of fear and hopelessness had vanished to be replaced with iron-smelting anger. He didn’t know if he was going to survive, but at this point, he no longer cared. He just wanted to be free. With no more fear of breaking his spine, he wiggled and squirmed violently, trying to squeeze free from the mountainous tomb he had encased himself in. His front hooves flailed, wildly, beating the ground in front of him, and raising a massive cloud of dust into the air.

The midday sun burned ruthlessly, summoning sweat from every pore in Big Mac’s body. He gridded his teeth as he struggled. “GAAAAHHHHH! Let me go! I… WANT… OUT!” Like a volcano blowing through its top, Big mac pushed, using his venomous anger as strength. He stood. Putting every fiber of his body to work, he stood tall, ignoring the burning pain that shot through his back and hind legs. With the last of his strength, he bucked as hard as he could, causing the larger boulders to roll off the side of his back, and sending several rocks and pebbles flying in every direction.

The crevice was so hazy with dust, he could barely see. He stood motionless for what seemed like forever. It was as though time had stood still. After a full night and half of a day, he’d finally broken out. I’m FREE! Ah don’t believe it, I’m actually FREE! Despite his hurt body and crying muscles, he felt completely weightless. At that moment, he swore he could float away, gravity unable to hold him back. “YES! TA HELL WITH YA, MOUNTAIN! YA CAN’T BEAT ME! YA HEAR THAT?! YA CAN’T BEAT ME!”  He was ecstatic. He felt better than he’d felt in months. With a triumphant start, he began to trot out of the crevice, moving carelessly, bobbing his head just as Applebloom always did.

A smile crept onto his face at the thought of Applebloom. I’m commin` home, sweetie. Ya just hang on, now. It was then that his adrenaline had begun to fade away. The tremendous pain in his overstrained, broken body hit him all at once like a speeding freight train. He stopped in his tracks, grinding his teeth to the pain. He tried to stay on his hooves. He tried to fight it, but it was too much, and as the world started spinning, he collapsed. His ears rang as his head bounced off the hard packed dirt trail just outside the trench.

His vision became blurred. The battle that waged between his body demanding rest and his mind trying to deny it had ended, and his body won. His mind began to shut down. A burning sensation erupted in his lungs. A thick, sticky, red substance sprayed out of his mouth as he coughed, uncontrollably. He wiped his running nose with his fore-hoof. When he pulled it back, he saw not mucus, but fresh blood soaking into his fur.

Unable to fight it any longer, he closed his eyes, feeling his mind shutting down, process by process. Just like that, he was dead to the world.

***

Big Macintosh awoke in a hospital. The fluorescent lights shining down from the ceiling illuminated a plain, white room. I’m… back? He took a minute to assess the area around him. It was a small four-wall room with two beds.  There was a sink on the far wall to his left, and a counter holding various medical supplies against the far wall in front of him. Just to the left of the counter was a door leading into an empty, white hallway.

He was completely alone. The bed beside his was empty. After such time in seclusion, he felt a pulling need for companionship, even if it was another injured, clueless pony. He needed to hear the voice of another pony.

Clacking hoof steps rang into the room from the hallway. Somepony was approaching. Big Mac waited patiently for the mysterious pony to arrive. It seemed like the unknown pony was walking a full mile to get to his room. His eyes were glued on the open doorway. He began to grow impatient as the clacking grew slightly louder at a painfully slow rate.

After what seemed like ten minutes, a plain white mare with the cutie mark of a syringe walked through the threshold into the white room. She had sparkling blue eyes and wore a white cap with a red cross on the front. She had a long pink mane, one that reminded Big Mac of Fluttershy. She seemed warm and kind. Her presence somehow made him melt, inside.

As she looked at him, she greeted him with a wide, friendly smile. “Hellooooo, Big Macintosh. Finally Awake I see!” Her voice was sweet as honey. It suited her soft and feminine features. “That’s so good to see. I’m Nurse Pixie, I’ve been looking after you since you were admitted. Now, I know your mind must be buzzing with questions for me, but first I need to run some quick tests, okay?” She was strangely intoxicating. With a big, goofy smile, he nodded at her. “Great!”

She approached him and took his radial pulse in her hoof. She poked and prodded at his rib cage. “Welp, everything’s looking good! Do you mind if I ask you some questions, dear?”

“Nope”, said Big Mac, shaking his head, smiling.

“Great! First off, how are you feeling, right now? Do you feel any pain?”

“Nope”, he said, cheerfully.

“You should”, she said a bit sourly. Big Mac didn’t know what to make of it, so he shrugged it off. “Do you feel any mental stress? Are you having trouble controlling your emotional reactions?

“Nope.”

“Great. Did you hit your head at any point during your accident?”

“Eeyup.”

“Fascinating. Okay, let’s see here”. Nurse Pixie pulled out her clip board from the bin at the foot of his bed and began writing things down. She took a seat on the empty bed and crossed her legs. “Big Mac, how did you feel while you were under those rocks?”

He hesitated for a moment. “Ummm… Ah dunno, a bit stressed, ah guess”, he said with a shrug.

“Were you stressed due to your guilt for mistreating your family?” His heart skipped a beat. How in Equestria does she know anythin `bout mah family?

“What`re ya talkin bout?” He tried to shake himself from the trance he was under, but she was too alluring. Something about her presence made him want to spill his guts about anything and everything. But he didn’t trust her, and the stranger her questioning became, the more uneasy he felt.

“Denial. That’s unhealthy, young colt”, Nurse Pixie said in a patronizing and disapproving tone. “Do you blame yourself for Pinkie Pie’s death?” This question knocked him through a loop. His eyes widened and his heart seemed to stop.

“Pinkie aint dead! How do ya know `bout Pinkie, anyway?!” As his temperature rose, her mental pull grew weaker.

“You’re right”, Pixie, said. “Pinkie Pie is quite all right… physically. She ALMOST died, Big Macintosh. I KNOW you blame yourself.” Big Mac snarled at her, the trance fading more rapidly. She was right though, and he knew it. It WAS my fault…

“You were the only pony who could’ve made a difference. You criticized your sister so harshly, but you couldn’t even keep YOUR friends ALIVE. How does that make you feel, sweetie?” She marinated her atrocious comment with a contradicting sweet smile. Big Macintosh was getting furious. Who does this LUNATIC think she is?!

“I’m leavin!” Big Mac climbed out of his bed and ripped the hospital gown he just realized he’d been wearing off with his teeth, discarding it onto the floor. He walked to the door in a huff. Within the blink of his eyes, Nurse Pixie was standing in front of him, blocking the exit. That’s impossible. How’d she move so fast? “Ya just get outta mah way now, ya hear?” The statement seemed to wildly amuse her. She began laughing at him, as though his words were the funniest joke anypony had ever heard.

Big Macintosh had enough, he grinded his teeth and narrowed his eyes. As his hatred grew, her laugh deepened. Seeming as though the trance had slipped away into the recycled hospital air, her lure vanished, and no sooner than it did, her face began to change. Before his very eyes, Pixie began to morph into something much more hideous than a kind, caring nurse.

Her snout narrowed, becoming pointed at the end. Her hair became unkempt, full of tangles, split ends, and crimson-red streaks. Her gleaming white coat became filthy and ridden with deep cuts and gashes. Blood stained her chest, neck, and hooves. Her teeth sharpened into angular, beastly fangs. Streaks of pink and red hair hung over her eyes, which had darkened into a rusty shade of red. Her laugh was now deep and hoarse, making her sound like a turntable playing a warped record. Her voice echoed from every direction, as if it was actually booming out of every corner of the room, making him feel surrounded by her.

She spoke in a menacingly demonic tone through a throat-full of gravel. “You think you can leave?! BWAHAHAHA! You’re trapped in here, SWEETIE! You can run as long and far as your body is capable, but you will NEVER escape the demons inside you!” Again, she proceeded to mock him with her maniacal laughter.

This can’t be real, he thought to himself. Ah gotta be dreamin or sumthin! He backed away from her, slowly. The bright lights started to flicker, rapidly, until they were replaced with a pale, yellow glow. The room around him began to change in appearance. The walls darkened to black and varying shades of brown and yellow. The tile under his hooves was cracked and charred. The ceiling had been replaced with strange, pulsating stalactites that looked like living tissue. The ambient air grew hot, as if he was standing above a raging inferno. A high-pitched ringing appeared, suddenly, making his eardrums ache. It was the worst scene he could possibly envisage. The demons he’d hid for so long had finally come to make him pay.

What er ya gonna do, now? Roll over an start cryin?! His inner-voice was filled with artificial determination as he gave himself a mental pep-talk. She’s Just a spoiled little mare! This fluzy is gonna get outta mah way or I’ll trample over her like the ground ah walk on! He leaned forward, his chest puffed out, revealing the deep lines in his lean, bulky muscle he’d developed from a lifetime of plowing fields. Feeling tall and powerful, he adjusted to a pouncing position; flank in the air, shoulders low, head close to the ground, and eyes locked on his target. He scuffed at the burnt floor with his front hoof and snorted, indicating that he was preparing to charge at her.

Despite his advantage in size and intimidating demeanor, demon Pixie looked unworried. She smirked at him, as if to say, ‘I dare you’.  He took off. Charging full speed at her from the short distance he’d started from, he attempted to bash her into pieces. Right before his dense forehead made contact with her, she evaporated in a puff of black smoke. He stopped and looked around, utterly bewildered. Where’d she go? The evil laughter that chilled him to the bone piped up from behind him. His eyes shot open, wide. Impossible! He turned his head slowly. She was there, where’d he’d just been standing. She ceased laughing and shot him a big toothy grin, followed by a playful wink.

Oh, buck this! He turned his head forward and began to sprint down the long, narrow hallway. It looked just as the room had, as if it had been burnt. The stalactites overhead continued to pulsate. It seemed to go on, forever. As he made his way deeper into the ominous hallway, the ringing in his ears grew louder. It became painful, almost to the point of being unbearable. His mind became panicked, and his vision grew hazy. Like running through a portal, he suddenly appeared somewhere else.

This is gettin ridiculous! He looked around trying to figure out where he had appeared. The ringing had quit, and all he could hear, then, were leaves rustling. A breeze ruffled through the apple trees. I’m… on the farm....

“Go on, then!” He heard the all too familiar voice shouting from a distance. He began to follow the voice until a small figure dashed out from behind a bush.

Applebloom!

She dashed away toward the eastern field, crying her eyes out. She didn’t seem to have seen him. “APPLEBLOOM”, he cried out. She ran on, completely unaware of his presence. He was just about to start running after her when a much larger figure stepped out from behind a tree. He stood face-to-face with himself.

Okay, now ah know I’m dreamin. Other Big Mac walked toward him. Big Macintosh didn’t try to talk to him, for he knew what this was. He was reliving a memory.

To prove his suspicion, Other Big Mac walked right through him, bearing no solidity. Big Mac watched him walking off. Ah guess I’m supposed ta follow `em, he thought to himself. So he did. He followed him for a couple miles.

By the time they reached the town, the dusk had broken, and the moon began its ascent into the sky. Other Big Mac approached sugarcube corner and walked inside. A sinking feeling washed over Big Mac as realization hit him. This is the night when Pinkie Pie… He didn’t want to relive this moment, but he knew he had to. He knew he couldn’t wake up from his nightmare until he saw what he was supposed to see.

He followed his doppelganger inside. Once inside, he sat in the corner and watched as the events unfolded.

“You came! You came!” Pinkie Pie jumped at him from behind the counter, her excitement and joy reaching its boiling point as she embraced her new close friend in a close, and very personal hug. Big Mac had remembered thinking how indicative it seemed, and how he’d reminded himself that it’s in Pinkie’s nature to push the boundaries of personal space. “I missed you! I’m so happy you came! Yay! Are you happy to see me, too?!”

“Eeyup”, spoke his doppelganger.

Pinkie smiled, admiringly, at him. “That’s one of the things I just LOVE about you, Macky! You’re SUCH a good listener!” Other Big Mac smiled and nodded at her, waiting for her to continue. “well”, she said, revealing more of her vulnerable state. “I’m… not doing too well. I’ve been so lonely.” Other Big Mac looked, sympathetically at her. A mild smile crept on her face. “Hey, you wanna see something, neat?”

“… Eeyup”. He had been curious. He had expected something random and over the top, but it wasn’t that way at all. Big Mac stood up and followed Pinkie and Other Big Mac to Pinkie’s room in the attic. There, Pinkie led him to the shuttered window above her bed and opened it. There was a small wooden staircase leading to the rooftop. The two, as well as their invisible guest, made their way up and sat on the apex of Sugarcube Corner’s roof. Pinkie sat very close to Other Big Mac, while real Big Mac sat, unnoticed, behind them.

“The stars look so beautiful from up here, don’t they?”

“Eeyup”. Pinkie looked at him and smiled, brightly, for a moment, only to fade as her thoughts festered.

“I don’t know what’s going on, Macky. Nopony wants to be my friend aymore. Everypony hates me…” Her face had been hidden behind her straight, long hair, but he could tell by her shaking voice that she was fighting tears. “I don’t know what I did, wrong”, she sniffled. “I just want things to go back to normal. Everything’s fallen apart…” She started crying. She had looked so scared and alone. He remembered wanting to console her, and wishing that Cheerilee had been there to say something to her.

He watched as Other Big Mac put his hoof around her shoulder with the intent of a non-embracive hug. As soon as Pinkie had felt that contact, She embraced him, fully. She scooted closer, breaking all space between them. She wrapped her hooves around him and rested her head on his shoulder. She cried, soundlessly as she sat in his embrace. He watched Other Big Mac wrap his other hoof around her, and together, they sat on the roof and stared at the stars for an entire hour. She would talk about her friends every few minutes, and he would listen. The tears stopped after a few minutes. She let herself be lost in the moment.

Eventually, Big Mac had decided he needed to go home. He wasn’t good at keeping his cool in situations like that, so he nodded his head at Pinkie, who seeming to understand, broke off her embrace. Other Big Mac stood up, but Pinkie remained seated, staring straight down. He remembered how awkward he felt. He didn’t want to leave, but he was very confused by the way she was acting. After a moment of his mind fighting with itself, Other Big Mac walked toward the steps and descended to the attic.

Big Mac didn’t stand to follow him. He knew what was going to happen. He watched as his doppelganger walked out of the building from down below and started home. Pinkie Pie stood and walked, sheepishly, down to her attic-bedroom. Still, Big Mac remained seated on the roof. He knew what she was about to do, and he knew he couldn’t change what had already happened. He didn’t want to see it. He couldn’t bear to see it.

So he sat, motionless. Ponyville had been so silent and still, that night, he thought to himself. Kinda like the town, itself, was asleep. He waited for about forty-five minutes. Right on cue, Other Big Mac came trotting through Ponyville back to Pinkie’s place. He had come to a decision that he wasn’t going to leave Pinkie’s side, even if it did make him feel uncomfortable. He watched himself enter the front door.

Finally, big Mac stood up, and walked back down to the attic to relive one of his worst moments. He climbed in through the attic window, walked to the corner and sat.

“Pinkie Pie?” Other Big Mac was standing in her doorway, calling out to her. She appeared to be asleep. He started to walk off, but stopped. He had wanted to make sure she was okay. He walked toward her bed where she lied bundled up in her blanket. When he got a closer look at her, he became worried. Her face was paler than he’d ever seen it. Her breathing was shallow and rapid, and her body was covered in cold sweat. Her eyes were wide open, but she was unresponsive. She didn’t even notice him standing over her.

“Pinkie Pie!? Pinkie! Can ya hear me?” She didn’t respond. He nudged her with his snout, and as he did, he heard a clacking as something fell off her bed onto the floor. It was an unlabeled pill bottle. Big Mac was already in tears, as he watched, helplessly, from the side. He remembered the shock as cruel realization clawed at his consciousness. Other Big Mac swiftly pulled her blanket off her to find three more empty pill bottles lying next to her. "No, Pinkie! Please don’t let this be happenin!”

He shook her, violently, his mind and body in full panick mode. “Pinkie! PINKIE!”

She responded with naught but a soft gurgle. Her pupils were fully dilated. “DAMMIT”, he spat. “whu`do ah do, now?!” He scooped her onto his back and broke for the stairs. Big Mac followed him out as they sprinted for the hospital.

Once they reached it, Other Big Mac Carried Pinkie inside, letting the door shut behind him. Big Mac followed them in, only to find an empty white corridor. He wiped his tears away. Stallions never cry...

He glanced around, and after far too long, he finally realized he wasn’t standing in Ponyville’s hospital. He was standing in the beginning of an endless hallway. He was back in his demon’s domain. He turned to leave as quickly as he could, only to bruise his nose against the splintered wooden door that blocked his way out. It was chained and covered in padlocks. He was trapped.

Stay calm, now. I’m gonna wake up ANY second, now! Or so he hoped. He started walking forward down the hall. Every step he took, the scenery morphed further into the burnt, rusted hell as it was, before. The same bio-stalactites descended from the ceiling, and the ringing he’d heard before chimed in, once again.

Pixie must be waitin for me. I know she’s watchin me. He wasn’t in the mood to face her. He was still shaken up about what had happened to Pinkie Pie. “To hell with ya”, he said, submissively. He sat down and stared straight forward. He stayed motionless, waiting for something to happen. Anything. He just wanted to wake up.

“So, I see you finally understand.” Her voice had returned to her honey-sweet persona. She spoke from directly behind him, but Big Mac remained looking straight forward.

“Eeyup”, he said.

“Running is futile, sweetie. I’m always going to be around.”

“Ah know.” He said, turning around to look at her. “Ah give. Just tell me what ya want so I can be on mah way.” She giggled, innocently.

“Dear, Big Mac, I’m so glad you’re finally cooperating. All I want you to do…” The ringing, once again, grew louder. She transformed back into her demon-state and glared at him with her glowing red eyes. “…Is SUFFER!” She raised her bloody hoof, revealing a long, serrated, stainless steel surgical knife with the remnants of fresh blood dripping from it.

She lept at him with inpony speed, but he had already taken off down the hall, avoiding her unforgiving blade by a mere whisker. He ran as fast as he could, maybe even a little faster. Though he thought he had left her in the dust, a quick glance back showed him that she was on his tail, and catching up, quickly. She ran on her hind-legs, standing perfectly up-right. He tried to run faster, but his body just wasn’t capable. He looked forward again just in time to see the hall turning at a right angle. He turned his body sideways and skud until his side hit hard into the wall, then galloped forward, hoping the blunder hadn’t lost him too much distance on her.

He continued to run down the narrow corridor for several minutes. He ran until his body screamed at him to stop. As fast as she was movin, how’d she not git me by now? He stopped and turned around, seeing a long stretch of hallway disappear into darkness. “… Huh…” He turned to walk forward, again, but doubled over, backward, when standing there in front of him on her hind-legs, was the demon, Pixie. Still up on her hind legs, she pointed her knife to the heavens, ready to strike. Her demented smile seemed to wrap around itself as her lips twisted in delight. Her eyes cried for bloodshed.

He had no options left. There was nowhere to run. He just watched her as she swung.

Mere inches before her knife made contact with his neck, she dissipated in a puff of smoke, just as she had, before. Big Mac blinked. Trying to keep up with the crazy world he was in was proving to be too much strain on his mind. Instead, he sat motionless and watched, patiently waiting to see what was going to happen, next. The hallways vanished in a split second, leaving him spiraling in darkness.

Ah think I’m startin ta get pretty tired o` this, he thought to himself. One thing right after the other. The moon flickered on, above, as though somepony had flipped a light switch. The lunar glow revealed a wide field surrounded by breathtaking mountainous forests. The stars started to appear in the sky; at first, one-by-one, followed by thousands all at once. The beautiful glow reflected off the dew-heavy grass, casting a silver reflection.

He heard approaching hoofsteps from his left. He looked up to find none other than Princess Luna walking calmly toward him. “Hello, big Macintosh”, she said as she came to a halt in front of him.

“Princess Luna?! What’s goin on here? Why are ya here?”

“It’s my duty to come into your dreams.”

Big Mac sighed in relief. “So ah actually AM dreamin? But it’s been so real. So vivid.” He looked down, letting the stress and heartache he’d been experiencing all night  be evident. “And that mare… She’s gone, now?”

“For now, Big Macintosh, but I fear you will see her, again.” She finished her sentance with an expression of concern.

“But I was dreamin. Doesn’t that make `er fake?”

“Yes and no”, she answered. “You see, Pixie is not a physical being, and nopony but you can see her. However, you created her. You gave her life. Pixie is a ponyification of your feelings of guilt. Until you solve this, she will continue to stalk your dreams.”

He pondered for a moment. “Can she hurt me?”

“Not physically. But if you don’t confront your guilt and put it to rest, she WILL drive you mad making you constaintly relive your most painful memories.”

“How do ah stop `er?”

“You must accept your past as is, and you must make amends.”

“Ah can’t. Ah don’t know how ta get home.”

“No? Have you lost your way?”

Big Mac felt a glimmer of hope awaken in his heart. She can send somepony ta help me! He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a fierce, spiraling wind. “What’s happenin?!”

“You are waking up, Big Macintosh. Your dream is drawing to a close.”

“But ah still have so much to talk with ya, `bout!” She looked at him apologetically as she began to rise into the sky. “Princess Luna! WAIT!” His pleading failed to hinder her exit from his dream-world. He watched helplessly as all his answers and solvation were whisked away into the night. He shouted in frustration as the hope he’d felt was ripped out of him by the cold, clammy paws of misfortune.

“WHERE’S TWILIGHT?!”

He was blinded by a powerful light. He felt the pain of being crushed and broken return to him. He was waking up.